“So,” I began, “do you care to explain?”

Vespera knelt before me, her silver hair pooling on the floor, her head bowed. Her slender frame was clad in a simple robe of dark cloth, her hands clasped before her in a gesture of supplication.

“Forgive me, O Messenger,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I did not recognize you. I thought…”

“Yes, I gathered that,” I said dryly, leaning back against a tree trunk.

The dark elf’s earlier bravado, her defiance, her murderous rage—it was all gone, replaced by a quiet, trembling reverence. She was a follower of mine, and she had just realized she’d tried to kill the messenger of her goddess.

Yes… Vespera thought I was a messenger of myself. And to be fair, there was no other explanation. I mean, no one would possibly think that a goddess could walk between mortals, chained and pissed on by ogres. It’s easier to believe I am a servant, an avatar, or a chosen champion.

And honestly, I was fine with that. I didn’t correct her. Why would I? Being a “Messenger” meant I got all the perks of divinity with none of the boring paperwork of answering prayers. Plus, seeing this proud, murderous Drow reduced to a shivering mess at my feet was a vintage I could drink all night.

“So?…” I prompted, intentionally leaving my question vague so she could spill everything that needed to be known.

“I…” Vespera began, taking a deep breath, as if gathering the strength to confess. “I, Vespera, a Blade Dancer of the Silent Tree, swore an oath to the Great Mother, to the Goddess of Lust.”

“A Blade Dancer? That explains your… enthusiastic reaction,” I mused, tapping my chin. “Why are you here?”

“A… quest,” she said, her gaze fixed on the ground before her. “I came here to investigate the signs of the return of our goddess.”

“Return?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Then it hit me.

“Ah!… you’re the person that Liliana sent to investigate the Lost Lands of the Gods.”

“Eh?” Vespera looked up, her amethyst eyes filled with shock. “Y-You know of Lady Liliana?”

“We met inside the holy temple of the goddess,” I explained. “She didn’t tell you? It’s been like six months since she met the goddess.”

“Six months?” Vespera’s eyes widened in disbelief, then she let out a small, frustrated sigh. “That woman… she always keeps me in the dark.”

“Aww~ don’t be mad at her,” I chuckled, enjoying her reaction. “She was busy with missions the goddess gave her.”

Yep… carrying a dragon egg in her womb and corrupting nine holy maidens, a ‘mission’ indeed.

“You have met the goddess… spoken with her?” Vespera asked, her voice filled with a mix of awe and envy.

“I have,” I confirmed, my tone serious. “I have seen her, spoken with her… and been blessed by her.”

The last part was half true. I mean, I blessed myself with myself, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Then… you are here for me? To guide me?” Vespera asked, her eyes shining with hope.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m here for a mission of my own. Our meeting was… a fortunate accident.”

“Oh…” Vespera’s face fell, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

“But…” I added, a slow grin spreading across my face. “I am willing to offer you a chance to meet the goddess.”

“Really?!” Vespera’s head snapped up, her amethyst eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes, but it won’t be easy,” I warned her. “You have to prove your devotion.”

“Anything!” she declared, her voice filled with determination. “I will do anything to meet the goddess!”

“Anything?” I purred, my grin widening.

“Anything,” she confirmed, her gaze unwavering.

“Good.” I leaned forward, my lips brushing against her ear. “Because the goddess is… a demanding mistress. She expects her followers to be… flexible.”

“I… I know,” she stammered, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

“And she expects them to… show their appreciation in… tangible ways,” I continued, my voice a low, seductive murmur.

“I… I understand,” she whispered, her breath hitching as my hand slid down her back, my fingers tracing the curve of her spine.

“Good,” I purred, my other hand moving to her ‘spear’, which was already hardening at my touch. “We’ll talk more about this later, in private. For now, let’s first leave this place.”

“A-alright,” she nodded, her body trembling with anticipation.

…

We went back to the ogre’s cave to gather our things. Or rather, her things. I didn’t have much, but Vespera did.

Three horses, each loaded with enough supplies and equipment to outfit a small squad. There were weapons, armor, maps, potions, and a surprising amount of rope.

Fortunately for her, the ogres didn’t bother checking them. However, she said that she lost one horse on the journey, and it just happened that the horse had the communication orb that Liliana gave her.

Vespera explained that normally, the journey from the Kingdom of Vandor to the Elven lands would only take about three months, two if she pushed it. But with the war that was happening, she had to take the longer, more dangerous route through the wild lands.

And on the road, she ran into a squad of human knights—the fanatics who believed that all non-human races should be purged from the continent. They chased her for a week before she finally managed to lose them. And that’s when she ran into the three ogres who were on the hunt for ‘easy meat’.

“Impressive,” I said, my tone genuine. “You managed to outrun an elite human knight squad but ended up in the hands of stupid ogres. Talk about bad luck.”

“I… I was tired and injured,” she defended herself, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “And they caught me off guard.”

“Sure, sure,” I teased, a playful grin on my face.

She glared at me, but there was no real anger in her eyes. She was too busy trying to figure me out. To her, I was a puzzle box with no lid. A walking contradiction. A divine messenger who swore like a dockworker and got hard at the sight of a big, round ass.

Anyway.

While Vespera was busy calming the horses and checking on her things, I searched the ogre’s cave, hoping to find something useful. And I found…

Nothing.

The place was a dump. A festering pit of filth and despair. The only things of ‘value’ were the things they had stolen from their victims, and most of that was either broken or covered in… well, you know.

Fortunately, I found three pairs of those Null-Cuffs, the ones that had been so effective at cutting me off from my mana. They were crude, rusty things, but the enchantment on them was ancient and surprisingly powerful.

‘Just in case,’ I thought, pocketing them in my inventory. ‘You never know when you might need to… disable a rival magician. Or just have some kinky fun.’

“Hehe~…”

“Messenger?” Vespera’s voice snapped me out of my delightful daydream involving those Null-Cuffs and a very vocal High Priestess. She was standing by the horses, her arms crossed over her chest, her amethyst eyes watching me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

“Come, I know a good spot for camping,” she said, turning and leading the way.

The spot was relatively close to the ogre’s cave. Vespera said that since this was the ogre’s territory, we didn’t have to worry about other monsters coming to this area.

We didn’t talk much, focusing on setting up the camp. I made the fire; she placed the tent. After that, I saw her pulling four stones with blue markings on them from one of the saddlebags.

When I asked her what they were, she explained that they were ‘warding runes’, a type of magical tool that creates a protective barrier around a small area, keeping our presence hidden from ‘prying eyes’ and other ‘unwanted guests’.

She placed the four stones in a square around the camp, and with a few words of power and a flick of her wrist, the stones glowed with a soft, blue light. A shimmering, translucent barrier rose up around us, distorting the light and muffling the sound of the forest.

“There,” she said, dusting off her hands. “Now we can sleep without fear of being attacked.”

“Good,” I said, a slow grin spreading across my face. “That means no one will hear your screams later.”

“!!!” Vespera froze mid-step.

For half a second, I thought she might actually draw a blade.

Then she exhaled sharply through her nose and shot me a glare sharp enough to cut stone.

“You enjoy provoking me far too much for a holy messenger.”

“I enjoy honesty,” I corrected lazily, dropping onto a fallen log near the fire. “And reactions. Yours are very… expressive.”

“And call me Morgana, not ‘Messenger’,” I added.

“I… yes, Morgana,” she nodded, her gaze flickering to the ground.

She muttered something in Elvish that I was fairly certain wasn’t a prayer and finished securing the camp.

Once everything was set, she finally sat across from me, the firelight painting her silver hair in warm gold and softening the sharp planes of her face. For the first time since our… introduction, she looked tired. Not wounded—just worn thin by weeks of running, fighting, believing.

Silence stretched.

Then, quietly, she spoke.

“What do you need from me?”

I poked at the fire, sending a shower of sparks into the twilight.

“I need to reach the elven capital,” I said, looking into her violet eyes. “Help me, and I’ll grant you a chance to walk in the holy temple of the goddess.”

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